


Smile

by Zhie



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bunniverse, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-15 00:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11794764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhie/pseuds/Zhie
Summary: Glorfindel and Faelion make an attempt to help Erestor heal without really knowing what befell him in the past.





	Smile

Erestor poked his spoon in the bowl he was given. It was a brown lumpy mass, and he wondered how many times Glorfindel had been in the position he was in during their years in Imladris, peering at food, or something masquerading as food. It was multi-toned, but it smelled like pudding. 

Sort of.

“Chocolate,” spoke up Faelion, in case there was a question on what the flavor was supposed to be. 

Erestor nodded and rested his head back. His jaw was swollen, and even the mushy carrots Glorfindel had cooked for him earlier had been difficult to eat. Any amount of chewing, talking, or even swallowing was painful, but pudding seemed like a good idea.

Or not.

The first spoonful contained a large lump of something that Erestor felt should have at least tasted overly sweet, but instead, it was bitter on his tongue and grainy in the center. He deposited most of it back into the bowl.

Faelion looked quite apologetic. “Sorry. It was my first time. I followed the recipe, but I guess I still messed something up.”

“I never trust recipes.” Erestor’s words were slurred as he pushed the mass about to navigate around he lumps. “This is still better than if I had tried to make it. I would have burned it or something.” He tried another mouthful. If he ate around the lumps, it was fairly flavorless, but it eased the emptiness in his stomach. “Good thing Glorfindel likes to cook.”

“He said that he was going to start some soup as soon as he returned.” Faelion originally offered to get the vegetables that Glorfindel would need, but Glorfindel explained that he needed to choose them himself. It made sense that if Glorfindel was going out, he should tend to the animals in the barn, which left Faelion to tend to Erestor that afternoon.

Erestor snoozed for a good portion of the day. When he woke, it was not because he was rested, but because the pain jolted him back into wakefulness.

“At least you can now say it is over halfway done,” said Faelion soothingly as he knelt down beside Erestor on the sofa. He stroked Erestor’s hair a few times. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

Erestor shook his head and handed back the bowl. Two-thirds of the contents were gone, and what remained was a terribly lumpy mess. “Thank you.”

Faelion took the bowl and retreated to the kitchen. He returned a few minutes later with a glass of salt water and a bucket. Slowly, Erestor sat up and took the glass. When it was finally discovered that he was in pain almost daily from weak, crooked teeth, Erestor was eventually persuaded that tending to the issue despite the obvious increased pain it would initially cause would alleviate issues in the long run. 

His companions and friends still did not know what had transpired for him to be in such a state, for he did not yet offer to them any indication of the tortures he had endured in Angband, nor that he had even been held captive at all. None of them were aware that in the depths of that place, his teeth had been torn out, and had regrown during a period of horrifying treatment, including isolation and malnutrition. It was obvious from the way Erestor set his jaw whenever the topic surfaced that he had no intention of explaining it, either.

Instead, he had agreed to this new torture for the benefit of himself and to ease the minds of his family. One or two teeth were pulled each year, and once regrown, the next would be removed. It was a slow process, but at least now Erestor would smile a little without lips pressed together, and could enjoy food without . The top teeth and several on the bottom were all in place, but the first bottom molar had just been extracted that morning and it had given more difficulty to the healer than most had. It did not help that the ointment used to numb the area had not worked, and so all that eased Erestor during the procedure was a swig of whiskey and holding onto Glorfindel’s hand.

Faelion held out a cloth for Erestor to use to wipe his mouth after he swirled the salt water in his mouth and drooled it down into the bucket. The healer had warned not to spit and to keep his mouth clean, even though the directions were memorized by Erestor. Faelion stroked Erestor’s head again. “Are you sure there is nothing else you want?”

Again, Erestor shook his head. Faelion cleaned up, and then returned to Erestor’s side. “Glorfindel should be back soon,” he assured him. “Do you want to try for sleep again while we wait?” Erestor closed his eyes and gave a little nod before he rested his head on Faelion’s shoulder and dozed off.

When Erestor woke again, it was close to midnight. He was propped up on the couch, his head elevated. Glorfindel and Faelion were both there, speaking softly nearby. Once they noticed he was awake, they both shuffled over to tend to him. “Did you want something to eat?” asked Faelion. When Erestor shook his head, Faelion pressed on with, “You should really eat something. You need to keep up your strength in order to heal properly.”

“Fine,” conceeded Erestor, not in the mood to argue. He moved the blanket to the side and stood up, a bit wobbly. “I just need to relieve myself,” he said when neither moved away.

“Of course.” Glorfindel took a step back, but held out his arm to steady Erestor.

“I can do it,” said Erestor, the words still slurred, but he took hold of Glorfindel’s arm anyhow and allowed him to lead the way to the washroom. He thought to object to Glorfindel following him in, but he was groggy and it was not worth the fight that would ensue. Erestor took the time to brush his hair as well, and to peer into his mouth in the mirror. “Should it look like that?” he asked.

Glorfindel studied the interior of Erestor’s mouth and replied, “The healer did say it was infected. It could be from that. We can fetch him in the morning.” 

This appeased Erestor and he returned to the great room to find that Faelion had some of the soup ready for him there, as well as a second attempt at pudding under the guidance of Glorfindel. There was some warm milk, too, and water, and on another table the glass of saltwater and the bucket underneath. Despite the many options that Faelion presented, Erestor ate only a little soup, drank the milk, and tried the pudding so that he could indeed complement Faelion on a job well done this time.

“I think I shall sleep again,” decided Erestor once he rinsed his mouth with the saltwater. “If the two of you want to go to bed, I should be fine.”

“Are you certain?” asked Glorfindel.

Erestor nodded. “I was also thinking, maybe this is the last one,” he said as he rubbed his jaw.

Faelion looked concerned. “The last one what?” he asked even though the answer was fairly obvious.

“My teeth. This was a bad one, and I think it hurt less to leave it. I am just too old for this, and did you hear what the healer said about it today? He mentioned that he had people who do this for cosmetic reasons, and sometimes they crack their jaws in the process. I would prefer not to risk it.”

“But Erestor, your teeth are not as likely to be deeply set in the bone, either,” Faelion reminded him. “That was what the first healer said when we went to her.”

“I know. I have been lucky so far. I just think I need to take a break.”

Before Faelion could dispute this again, Glorfindel set a hand on his shoulder. “It should be Erestor’s decision,” he said.

“Yes, of course, but still,” replied Faelion. He sighed. “I mean… you have come a long way. It is a shame to stop now.”

“But I have come a long way,” Erestor repeated. “Maybe this is enough.”

Faelion appeared about to argue, but one look from Glorfindel made him shake his head. “You are tired and you have been through much. We should allow you to heal, and we can talk about it again in six months or so. We should keep the appointment with the healer for then, so that if you decide to continue with your progress, we do not need to scramble to reschedule.”

“Fine,” said Erestor, but it did not really sound like an agreement. 

“Maybe you should go up to bed,” suggested Glorfindel to Faelion.

“I thought you were coming with me,” he said.

Glorfindel looked at Erestor with hesitation. “I should be fine. All I am going to do here is sleep and drool,” said Erestor.

“I can stay up down here.”

All three looked to the doorway, where Fingon stood with a mug in his hands. “I just came down to get more cocoa, but all I am doing up there is reading. I can easily do that down here.”

“What about Beleg?” asked Glorfindel.

“He is deep in dreamland. He is the early bird, and I am the night owl.” Fingon entered the room. “Just brief me on what I have to do,” he said, and Faelion offered a quick explanation of the saltwater while Erestor muttered that he did honestly know how to take care of himself.

Once the changing of the guard was complete, Fingon set his mug down and addressed Erestor. “Are you really sleepy, or did you just say that to make them go away?”

“How long were you listening?” asked Erestor, countering with his own question.

“Long enough. I think most of it,” he admitted. “So, did you want to rest, or would you be interested in a game?”

“What did you have in mind?” asked Erestor, who indeed was not all that tired at the moment.

“Cribbage, War, Chess, Checkers -- I can cheat at just about anything.”

The comment made the corners of Erestor’s mouth turn up ever so slightly. “Maybe something simple for now.”

“Ah! It sounds like you wish to see my great skills of deception when playing Go Fish,” announced Fingon. This actually produced a smile from Erestor, not one of the placating quirks of his lips, but a true grin and even a bit of laughter. “Wait right here -- I will retrieve the cards, and you can shuffle them while I make more cocoa. Speaking of, did you want some cocoa?”

“That sounds delicious,” he said, even though he knew he would only sip a little of it.

“I will be right back,” promised Fingon, and Erestor smirked once Fingon disappeared from the room. He was not about to play his hand and reveal that he, too, was a terrible cheat at cards until after he had a chance to stack the deck.


End file.
